A New Hope
by Jardix
Summary: Hope Mikaelson is all grown up and ready to take on the world; and the world is ready take on her. In a dark and scary future where the Mikaelson family is extinct and the Stricts rule the world, Hope must find old allies and make new ones if she hopes to survive.
1. Seek and Destroy

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in The Originals universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.** **The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

 **EDITOR'S NOTE: This story takes place in Season 3 of The Originals, which is obviously not the current season. Some of the biggest changes in this world would be the fact that Davina is still alive and well, never having died or being resurrected the last time. Hayley and Jackson lived long enough to raise Hope until around 10 years old, and the Mikaelsons were captured and imprisoned by Tristan, Aurora and Lucien. I hope that's not too confusing, and please, enjoy the story!**

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 _I am, I was, I will be._

 _I am weak by other's words_

 _I am strong by my own will_

 _I am forgotten of kings but remembered by princes_

 _I am left in the shadows; I am maker of the light_

 _I am fooled in the garden, I am mother of nations_

 _Who am I?_

My name is Hope. It's a strange name, especially for someone like me. I don't bring hope; I bring death. Maybe Raven would have been a better name; maybe I'll use that in the next town…

I am alone. Almost entirely. I am completely unique. There is none other like me. I am afraid, and yet others fear me. I am strong, and yet, so weak… Who am I? As I already said. I am Hope. Hope Mikaelson.

Life was never easy for any of us. Monsters aren't meant to live in the shining light, live normal lives and die surrounded by family and friends. No, monsters have a different destiny. Or so I've been told. And I am certainly a monster.

I look like one; I wear leather and armor instead of normal clothes. Most eighteen year old girls are worried about boyfriends and colleges. Clothes and fashion. I'm not an average eighteen year old. But maybe you've guessed that?

I was sitting on a bridge; or rather, the supports underneath a bridge. I was watching and waiting; kind of like Batman, but without the money and mask. I did have a cape; or something similar to one. Black trench-coats have a way of hiding weapons and disguising blood. Leather pants and shirt, combat boots and an honest-to-goodness utility belt completed my odd look. Barbara Gordon, eat your heart out.

Some people said I was beautiful. Most of them usually wound up in the hospital, though, so maybe the word of a pervert wasn't the best source. Aunt D sometimes mentioned it, but then again, isn't that what family's for? Telling you wonderful lies to hide terrible truths?

I certainly wasn't ugly, in any case. I was thin, lean, and muscular. My brown hair was tucked into a tight braid against my skull. My overly pale skin looked almost normal. My brown eyes were large and always curious looking. Some said I was innocent looking. Then they noticed the swords at my waist and thought otherwise.

But I wasn't in a dive bar, or a loud night club, or even a nice diner like Aunt D loved to visit. I was under a bridge, waiting for a party to start. Not the kind with lights and music; I hated those. Loud, drunken idiots dancing with strangers and winding up with no memory of the night before weren't my kind of crowd. Never had been.

The partiers I was waiting for were of a slightly different caliber. As I watched, some of them started to trickle in. I focused on them, letting my senses take over. They were dressed in dark clothing, with no obvious weapons to be seen. They didn't think they needed them. How cute.

The others were dressed more normally. Dresses and skirts, jeans and tee shirts. Like young adults who'd forgotten they were no longer teenagers. They looked young, eager, and normal. But anyone with any sense knew otherwise. I closed my eyes and listened in, letting go of my other senses.

"You came! If only I had a treat for you…" One man said loudly. He was older, maybe in his forties. His voice was rough and ragged, like a chain-smoker had taken up opera singing before getting punched in the throat. His tone was arrogant and self assured.

"We're smart enough to pick our fights." The leader of the other group, a woman, shot back. She was younger than him, but still older than me. She was calmer and measured, but there was a dose of fear in there as well.

"Good thing. I'd hate for this to get messy again…" The man had a predatory edge to his voice. Lustfulness had crept in; like the woman across from him was nothing more than a toy to be played with when he was bored.

"What do you want, Smith?"

"A lot of things. Tonight, though, I need another ring. New recruits, you know. Can't have them bursting into flames every time the sun rises." The man named Smith said in a cool tone. The woman's heartbeat quickened in anger; it was loud enough for me to hear, even twenty feet above them.

"And if we refuse to help you ruin another life?" The woman asked defiantly. I felt a surge of pride for her; she was actually considering a fight.

"Then we'll just have to ruin yours." The man took a step forward, his vampire speed making him a blur.

I pounced, jumping from my perch and falling straight for the concrete below. As I moved, my twin swords flew out of their sheaths, the hardened metal shining in the moonlight. In one graceful arc, the swords cut through air and then flesh, and as my boots hit the ground, the vampire's head went flying.

I knelt down to absorb the shock, leaving my arms out at my sides, the blades now dripping with blood. As the now headless body sank to the concrete, I gracefully rose to my full height and glared out at the rest of his friends.

"Leave and you live. Stay and you die." I growled. It was an old threat; I'd found it was one of the simpler ways to get my point across. They all shifted uncomfortably before the obvious second in command charged forward.

"Get that…" He shouted a cuss word that made me raise an eyebrow.

"Watch your tongue…" With lightning speed, I ran forward and sliced first at his ankle, then at his face. I spun around to carry the momentum forward, ending up with one sword pointing straight ahead and the other pointing at the man now at my feet.

"…Or I'll watch it for you."

The man's severed jaw hit the ground with a sick thud, and the fight was on. Two more sprinted towards me, hands outstretched to try and contain me. I sliced off a few fingers, and then whole hand before elbowing one in the face and kicking the other high in the throat.

The first fell to the ground while the second clutched at his neck; I drove my right sword into his heart and pushed in with enough force to drive it straight through him. The other sword cut into his neck and hand, severing his head from his shoulders. My right sword popped out of his back, which I deftly caught, and I turned to the other four.

They all got the idea and came at once, hoping to overpower me with numbers. Instead, it turned into a meat grinder. Spinning around like a ballet dancer from Hell, I swung my swords faster and faster, and the blood started to flow.

Fingers, hands, arms, and even legs fell to the pavement. Blood splattered into the air in a fine mist, and before ten seconds had passed, four corpses hit the ground.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly, calming the blood lust as best I could. It wouldn't be appropriate to go full ripper in front of new friends, after all. I cleaned my swords on the clothes of the men at my feet before tucking them back into their sheaths with a gentle touch.

Turning back to the group of witches still under the bridge, I uttered a spell under my breath. The corpses of the vampires all burst into flame at once, and the red light danced around the high embankments around us. With another word and a quick gesture, seven rings flew into my hand out of the ashes. I tucked the trophies into a pocket without another word.

"You must be Hope." The lead witch said slowly, her face blank with shock. She had short hair, dark skin, and a look of absolute terror on her face.

I smiled and nodded, putting on my best 'I come in peace' face. Aunt D says I need to work on it.

"That's right. Don't worry, these vamps won't be back. I already got the rest of their group half an hour ago." I explained, stepping right up to her. She eyed me suspiciously, like she was expecting me to slaughter her friends next.

"I see." She said curtly. I got the impression she had no clue what to say. I took over with practiced ease.

"Remember, you called me. Vampires needed to be put down, and witches needed saving. That's what I do. I don't expect anything in return, for now." I dug my hand into another pocket and pulled out a small coin, brown in color and about the size of a quarter.

"Here. Take this. When I need to call in that favor you now owe me, that's how I'll find you." I said with a gentler smile.

The coin had the same carving on both sides; a crescent moon enclosing a small sun, with a dozen stars circling around it.

"Keep it safe."

When I was a kid I wanted a puppy. They're cute and innocent, you know? But no, mom and dad said that a life on the run wasn't good for a dog. Plus, they thought it would probably freak the poor thing out when they turned into wolves on the full moon. So instead I got a necklace with a wolf's head on it. A metal cutout, thankfully, not an actual preserved wolf head. Dad was always good at making things like that.

But they were gone now. I was ten when it happened. One minute they were there, the next, they were gone. Vampires of Tristan's line had finally caught up to us. They were looking for me, but cloaking spells had been the first ones I learned. When I saw a dozen strange men walk up to the front door, my first thought was that mom and dad had finally decided to let me have a real birthday party and even invited their friends over.

Then I remembered that mom and dad didn't have friends. And then there was a fight. I hid in the closet, just like I'd been told. I cloaked myself, just like I'd been told. I listened to their screams. They hadn't told me about that. I listened to the silence after they were dead. That was the worst part.

It wasn't a house, it was an old office building down town and we didn't own it. So the vampires had no trouble getting in. They searched thoroughly; they didn't want to report back without me in tow. So they came closer, and closer. They climbed the stairs. They walked across the creaky floor. They pulled back the curtain on the office I used as a bedroom. They tore the room apart; my bed was flipped over, the suitcase with my clothes was torn up. My stuffed animal, that silly old stuffed wolf with one eye and half an ear was stomped on. Strange as it sounds, that's how it happened. That's how I snapped.

Even at ten years old I was powerful. I walked out of the closet and waved my hands, still invisible. One man flew out the window after bursting into flames. Another just melted. Every bone in his body had been broken at once. Tears streamed down my face and I screamed as I walked. Vampire after vampire fell around me, and the whole building caught fire.

I stood in the middle of the building, hugging my wolf, staring at the bodies of my parents. Flames licked up the walls and smoke filled the air. I was still cloaked, invisible as the firefighters ran in. I was too far gone to care. The flames continued.

One of the firefighters was killed in the process. The entire building crumbled down around me. And when Aunt Davina finally found me in the rubble, I was still crying, still holding that charred wolf. And she scooped me up, wiped away my tears, and told me it would be alright.

That's what family's for. Telling beautiful lies to hide terrible truths.

That was eight years ago. A lot had changed since then. I started that fire, so I was a witch. I'd killed someone in that fire, so I was a werewolf. I'd died in that fire, so I was a vampire. I'd aged since that fire, so I was human. I am complicated, to say the least.

But at the moment, there was nothing complicated about my need for a burger. A good one; thick, with warm buns, tons of ketchup and mustard, maybe even a few pounds of melted cheese… no vegetables; if I wanted a salad I'd order one and Aunt D would take me to the hospital to have me checked out.

No, I wanted a burger. And I was entitled to a little liberty after a job well done, right? Well done… meat can be well done…

"Welcome to McDonalds, what can I get you today?" The smiling boy asked, trying not to let his gaze drift too far down. He was chubby, covered in acne, with a mouth full of braces and messy red hair. Needless to say, I wouldn't be hitting on this one.

"What's the biggest and best quality burger you have?" I asked hungrily, my eyes devouring the menu. Did I need ice cream? What a stupid question, of course I did! And a few gallons of coke, maybe a couple dozen large fries…

"Never mind. Give me three Big Macs, two fries, an extra large coke and a soft serve ice cream." I snapped, already drooling a little as I smelled the heavenly aroma coming out of the kitchen behind him.

"Is that for here or to go?" He asked politely.

"You think I'm waiting to eat this? Here!"

"Alright, that'll be…" He pressed a few buttons and told me the total. I barely listened, I just dug out a few twenties and pocketed the change a minute later. I had to keep that straight… wallet in one pocket, trophy rings in another, magic coins in the last one. Do not mix that up or people get really freaked out when a handful of burnt, bloody rings hits the counter.

"Your order number is fourteen and it'll be ready in a moment." He said with the usual amount of enthusiasm. I snatched the receipt and started pacing absentmindedly. I was the only in the restaurant since it was two A.M. in the middle of no where, and I was kind of thankful for that. The trench coat did its job and hid my swords, and bow, and quiver, and blood stained pants, but I still stood out a little.

When the order was finally ready, the same guy handed me the tray full of steamy goodness and ogled me again.

"I hope you enjoy it!" He beamed.

"Trust me, I will."

I slid into a booth in the back and started devouring the cheap food like there was no tomorrow.

"Lucky. That'd go right to my hips." Aunt D said wistfully. I didn't even look up as the image shimmered into place. I was the only one that could see her, but if I spoke everyone would hear me. Thankfully there were three people in the building and I didn't care about any of their opinions.

"Perks of being a freak. Fast metabolism." I joked, practically unhinging my jaw to cram a fistful of fries inside.

Aunt Davina was still a beautiful woman. She'd gotten just as many looks as I had, and still got them on the few occasions she left her lair. Technically it was an old factory, I preferred 'lair'.

Her hair was long and brown, oddly like mine. Well, she was my father's adoptive son's adoptive daughter and she had had this weird fling with my dead uncle once… The family tree was complicated, just like me. Her face was still round and healthy looking, though with a few more lines now. She was approaching thirty five, though no one would have guessed it. She looked like she was still in her mid twenties.

"You're not a freak." Aunt D said for the thousandth time.

"I can kill people with my mind, drink blood, and turn into a wolf at will. I think that counts as being a freak."

The poor kid at the counter tripped and then not-too-nonchalantly glanced over at me. I ignored him.

"You're whatever you want to be. Right now you're a soldier. Did you find that coven?"

"Yep. And saved the day, as is my custom. No casualties on our side, no survivors on theirs. Mission accomplished." I grinned. I sucked down half of the coke in one swallow and considered a refill.

"They have the coin?"

"Yep."

"You weren't injured?"

"Nope."

"Or seen by humans?"

"Nope."

"Hope?"

"Yep?" I looked up from the ice cream to see her 'concerned' look.

"Come home soon."

With that last cryptic comment, she faded from view. I swallowed the last of the ice cream and sat back, wondering what was wrong. She'd been very cryptic lately; more than usual. That said something. It usually took her an hour to order a pizza because she had to pretend to be person A who lived at location B and wanted pizza C all while being person D who was having trouble keeping it straight. Life on the run from a powerful group of vampires wasn't all hugs and tickles.

I finished my light snack and left, not looking forward to the long run back. I was in Minnesota, heading for Tennessee where Aunt D's lair sat.

I stretched my legs a little, walking onto the main highway. Cars streamed past, but I ignored them. Once I got going, they'd be standing still in comparison. I loved to run, but more like a sprint every Monday instead of a marathon every night. It was tiresome, and the massive blob of fast food that had just hit my gut didn't help. Was it too late for a parfait…?

I shook the thought and started running. The cars slowed to a stop, and time seemed to stand still. Relativity, according to Einstein. They weren't stopped, I was just going so fast they looked like they were standing still. To them I was a blur barely visible in between the other cars.

As I ran I thought, because there wasn't much else to do. I really needed to invest in an MP3 player or something.

I'd been from Frisco to DC, from Minnesota to Arizona. Canada and Mexico, England to Russia. That was a fun weekend… All in the quest for witches. Voodoo, Hoodoo, witchcraft, Shamanism, you name it, I'd found it. Do them a favor, look awesome doing it, leave them the coin and promise to someday claim the favor they now owed me. Or us, as it was Aunt D that actually tracked them down.

All to resurrect a man I'd never met. His name was Kol Mikaelson; my uncle. Aunt Davina had fallen in love with him before he'd been killed by another uncle, Finn. Nice family, right?

So Davina had tried to resurrect him, but then some other guy had stripped her of her powers… It was weird. All I knew was that we needed a lot of witch power to make this work, and that meant a lot of witches to channel. I mean, a _lot_ of witches to summon Kol back from the Ancestors of New Orleans version of purgatory. I think I'm going to get a cookie or something when it's all said and done.

That was my life now. To be honest, it wasn't all that bad. Mom and dad had hid me, trying to protect me by making sure I never lived any kind of life or saw anyone else besides them. It sucked, and it sucked in a way that made me feel guilty now that they were gone. Aunt D was different.

She wanted me to develop my powers. I was a witch, I ought to learn how to do magic. I was a vampire; I needed to know how to fight like one. I was a werewolf, I should probably figure out how to turn at will. So Aunt D had tracked down two guys that hunted vampires like I now did. They never gave any names, but one went by J and the other I was told to call T. T taught me how to turn, J taught me how to fight. They were both kind of hot, in a dark, creepy, way-too-old-for-me kind of way.

Then came my weapons. I wasn't invincible, and I needed every edge I could get. Literally. So Aunt D helped me forge swords. Talk about a sweet sixteen birthday party! Who doesn't love an old forge, anvil, and several ingots of stolen precious metal?

Part titanium, part silver, part a whole lot of other not as cool sounding stuff, and Sol and Luna were forged. I tempered them in my drool, I mean 'venom', and enchanted them to work faster just like Aunt D had taught me. Any vampire that so much as nicked himself on the blades would die quickly and painfully. Any werewolf would lose his healing powers and go the same route. I didn't kill werewolves often, but they were aggressive and territorial, so you never know. To a point, I was too, but I didn't see it much. Aunt D did, or so she said, but I wasn't sure if I believed her. Every teenaged girl threatened dismemberment if you went in her room, right? Right?

Before I knew it, I was back in the lair. It was an old fertilizer factory, so it smelled lovely, but it worked. It was in the middle of no where surrounded by woods in its own little valley, so it was perfect for our purposes.

I keyed open the old side door and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar smell of chemicals and rotting manure. Aunt D tried lighting candles once, but it turns out that stuff is kind of explosive. She lost her eyebrows and I laughed until she got really, really mad.

"Aunt D! I'm home!" I shouted, listening to the echo as I walked in. I locked the door after me and refreshed the old protection rune etched into the frame.

Rune magic was old, poorly understood, and my favorite form of magic. My twin swords were covered in them. That rune made them faster, that one made them stronger, that one returned them to my hand if I dropped them… the list went on. Needless to say, I was a pretty deadly with them when I wanted to be.

"You're home. Good. I was getting worried."

Aunt D appeared out of the shadows, arms folded across her chest and frown already in place.

"I am an awesome vampire-slaying hybrid witch, Aunt D. What's going to happen to me?" I reminded her.

"Your father thought he was all that too, and he's now locked behind a force field with his siblings. You are very killable, and I was worried." Aunt D shot back.

My 'real' father was Klaus Mikaelson. He was insane, sadistic, ancient beyond all belief, and apparently had a thing for werewolves. I was the only good thing he'd ever had a part of, or so Aunt D told me. I didn't remember him.

"Come on, I'm like Black Widow on steroids! It'd take a lot more than a few vampires to take me down!" I grinned, flexing my arms dramatically.

Aunt D didn't look amused. "I've got dinner waiting. Come on."

"Oh good, I'm starving!" I said truthfully. Running that far that fast tended to burn a lot of energy.

"So what's the big surprise? You looked more worried than a cow at a steak convention earlier." I joked, sitting down at the small wooden table in one corner of the huge building.

"I've been thinking."

"That's never a good sign…" I joked nervously. The look she shot me told me to shut up, and I wisely obeyed.

"The Council of Three is only growing more powerful. Louisiana is totally under their control now. Their braver, bolder, and getting more power hungry with every passing day." Aunt D explained. The Council of Three was the group that put my dad and uncle and aunts away all those years ago. Lucian, Tristan, and Aurora were the first vampires any of the Originals had ever turned. They all thoroughly regretted the decision now.

"I sent you on all those missions for selfish reasons." Aunt D said forcefully.

"It was fair; you gave me a happy life, I was returning the favor." I cut in.

"I gave you anything but a happy life!" Aunt D snapped guiltily. "But you needed to grow and learn to defend yourself. You needed enemies to fight, and I had plenty of those. But now you're an adult. You can make your own decisions."

"I don't know… I don't feel very adult-y right now…." I argued, snatching an apple out of a bowl on the table faster than eye could follow. I extended my fangs and inserted the apple onto one of them making a show of balancing it there.

Aunt D shot me a withering glance. I spit it out and apologized.

"To do this spell, to bring Kol back, I need to be in New Orleans."

"A.K.A., bad guy central." I commented.

"And if we wait much longer, the Council will be too strong to fight. I want to go now, while we still have a chance at winning. I have an old friend there who's still fighting, if we can find him."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised that I'd never heard this story.

"Who?"

Aunt D sighed and sat down across from me, suddenly looking very old. "His name is Marcel."


	2. New Orleans

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in The Originals universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.**

 **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

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 _Once I slept in and dreamed a while…_

 _I dreamed and dreamed for all the world._

 _Of men and women, of animals wild,_

 _Of countries new, and kingdoms old._

 _I dreamed of you, I dreamed of him;_

 _But most of all, I dreamed of then._

 _And when I woke, it was no whim,_

 _My dream had come true. For I was home._

The future was always thought to be a shining, brighter tomorrow where peace and knowledge reigned. Monorails and gleaming towers, strange clothing and diverse people. New Orleans certainly lived up to that dream, but in a darker way.

The city had been burnt down and rebuilt so many times it wasn't the same city any more. Not really. Tall skyscrapers clawed upwards, broad streets stretched outwards, and the squat, ugly buildings of the New Orleans of days past were slowly being replaced. The future was here. The Council was in charge. New Orleans was the center of a new revolution.

I expected something else. I don't know what, but something. Aunt D had told me all these stories about vampire armies and werewolf gangs and hidden covens of witches in graveyards. Love and lies, hate and murder, you know, a real grimy and gritty place. Instead, New Orleans looked like a clone of New York. It all looked so shiny and clean; had there really ever been a war here?

I was on a lonely road going through the Bayou after running all of the previous day. Aunt D was following behind in a big van that was absolutely covered in warding spells, protection runes and anything else they could think of to give her an edge. Aunt D was no coward, but she was in essence a human now. Walking into the vampire capital of the world unprotected seemed dumb to both of them.

As I walked along the old road, I couldn't help but admire the ancient trees growing nearby. The smell of the nearby swamp wasn't pleasant, but it was somehow familiar. I remembered nothing of my early childhood here; I'd been long gone before my first birthday.

I still remembered that day my mother had tried to explain it all to me. At five years old I'd asked why we were always on the run. Why mom and dad were always afraid. Why they couldn't be around other people. And so my mother, Hayley, had tried to explain.

Always and forever, it seemed so creepy now that that's how my mother had started it; there was a great pack of werewolves called the Crescents. Hayley was a princess of the pack, and was pregnant with the child of an ancient prince of the same pack. That child was me, Hope. But this pack had enemies; my father was sick in the head, and saw enemies in his friends. One day his friends turned on him, and locked away in a prison far, far away. They took his kingdom, and started looking for my family. So we ran. Our pack stayed behind to buy us time and throw them off the scent. We didn't know what had happened to them.

That same day, a lot of people had died. I had another aunt, a real aunt named Freya. She'd died trying to save my real dad from his enemies. That was all seventeen years ago, and I really didn't know how much to believe any more. What was real, and what was fairy tale? What was simplified for the ears of a little girl and what was all too harsh and exact?

From what I understand, some people have these normal, average lives that revolve around the stupidest little things. Like whether or not a certain guy talked to you or whether or not that store is having a good sale. I always wondered what that kind of life would be like. No swords, no bow strapped to my back, no black leather unless I felt like it, no looking over my shoulder for vampires coming to kill me. What _would_ that be like?

Boring, probably. I smiled a little to myself as I rounded the last bend. New Orleans was in sight again; I was on the outskirts now.

"Home sweet home." I said to no one. I kept up my slow pace, enjoying the sight of the gleaming city ahead.

"Home, home in the swamp… where the vampires and the werewolves play… where seldom is heard… a curse or magic word, and the skies is cloudy all day…" I sang softly. I didn't know why; I guess I just felt like being weird. If I can't be normal, I might as well rock the whole 'freak of nature' thing. Singing softly while wandering through the swamp ought to do it.

There was a row of buildings nearby with scraggly chain link fences around them. They looked almost like houses, but they were so run down and dirty looking it was hard to tell. There were kids toys in that yard, a broken down car in that one, was that a blood stain in that driveway…?

My train of thought was interrupted by a sudden flash of movement. A woman was running down the street, towards the rest of the city. Another figure, a man, was hot in pursuit.

Without thinking, I sprinted up to them and easily passed the man. By the dark veins under his eyes and the gleaming fangs, there was no doubt he whose team he was routing for. The woman looked human, though. The look of terror cemented that theory in place.

"Stop!" I stood in between them with one hand out, and one hand waiting eagerly near the hilt of one sword. They both froze, more in surprise than obedience.

The woman had the appearance of a refugee fleeing her homeland. Her clothes were dirty and ragged, her face was muddy and scratched, her hair was greasy and tangled. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stood staring at me.

The man, on the other hand, was well dressed, well groomed, and looked fresh out of a male model shoot. Almost hot, but that idiotic confusion in his expression kind of ruined it.

"Who are you?"

I filtered out the half a dozen cuss words. "My, you have a way with words! Leave her alone before I have to do something nasty."

The guy looked me up and down, as if sizing me up, and made the wrong decision. "Nasty, huh? Maybe I like nasty…" He assumed a more predatory look and took a step closer.

I moved so fast he didn't even see the sword flick out of its sheath. It just appeared in his neck, and with a quick jerk, I had it back in its place.

He grabbed his throat with his hands and growled out a reply through the fountain of blood. "Idiot! That won't kill me!"

"Want a bet?" I said coyly. Sure enough, his eyes grew wider, his grip tightened, and then he collapsed to the ground and started shaking violently. I turned to the woman completely unfazed.

"Hey there. You okay?"

There was a smack of flesh against asphalt, a splatter of blood, and an inhuman scream from behind me.

"You look a little shaken up."

The woman burst into tears, sank to her knees, and started babbling on in a thickly accented English.

"Please… please… I have a daughter! She's sick, I just wanted to get some medicine! I know it's after curfew, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" She wept, looking the textbook definition of pathetic.

I was totally stunned and slowly knelt down in front of her.

"Hey… don't do that…" I tried weakly. She kept crying. "I'm not going to hurt you! I only kill vampires! And werewolves… Witches too, that's not important!" I rambled on.

She didn't look convinced.

I sighed and brushed a few strands of hair out of my face so she could see me better. I'd let it out of its usual braid for the run down to New Orleans and forgotten to put it back up. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." I said more convincingly.

She stopped crying this time, but still looked shell shocked.

"Look, I'm going to take you back home, alright? You said your daughter is sick?" I asked gently. She nodded quickly.

"I think I can help with that."

The woman's house was just as run down and gross looking as the rest. Now, I live in a fertilizer factory, so I know gross when I see it, and this place made me want to take a shower. It looked like someone had died and then rotted on the couch, the windows were shattered and boarded over, and the carpet was fifty-fifty material and dead bugs.

The daughter was on the couch, which probably wasn't helping her infected wound or high fever. She looked like a corpse already, and I know corpses better than most.

"How long has she been like this?" I asked gently.

"A few days. One of those monsters bit her; he stopped before he…" She didn't finish, but I didn't need to know the details. I fed on humans every now and again. It gave me a boost to my vamp-speed, but it wasn't necessary for survival and honestly the thought of sucking on a strangers neck just didn't sound that appetizing.

"Here. This will help." I pulled a small vial out of my jacket pocket and popped off the plastic seal. It was a few ounces of my blood, stored away for exactly this kind of occasion.

"Does she have to drink that?" her mother asked skeptically. The daughter, she only looked about ten, was equally as horrified.

"Nope. Just watch." I smiled as nicely as I could and slowly poured the vial over the infected bite on her arm. She flinched a little, as if expecting it to hurt, but of course it didn't.

We'd learned a long time ago that vampire blood didn't have to be ingested and it didn't have to be fresh. I always hated the sight of vampires chewing on themselves and then offering to wounded humans like 'drink up'. No thanks bro, I think I'll just die slowly…

My way worked just as well and was half as gross. In seconds the wound on her arm closed and her skin started to turn back to a normal shade. Her mother let out a long breath, as if she'd been holding it for days, and another tear came to her eye. I put my hand on the girl's forehead and muttered under my breath for a moment.

In a second, a faint rune appeared on her skin, and then disappeared. I smiled at her again and stood up to face her mother.

"She's going to be okay now."

"But now she has your blood in her; if she dies…?" She sat down on the couch next to her daughter and started worriedly stroking the girl's hair.

"No. That's what the spell was for. For the next day or so, your daughter is practically invincible. Don't go jumping off roofs to test that, though!" I joked. No one laughed. I coughed and got more serious. "Nothing inhuman is going to be able to touch you. You'll be safe until the blood is out of your system."

I stood there and watched them for a minute before looking around at the rest of the house. It was just as pathetic and raggedy as the living room. The kitchen, small dining area and most of the bathroom were in plain sight with two walls obviously missing. I hadn't needed an invitation to come in because the two were squatting there; no one alive owned the little shack.

"Why do you stay?" I asked suddenly. It was rude and I almost regretted asking, but I had to know.

"We can't leave. Cars or buses take money; we have none." The mother was trying not to sound whiny, but it kind of failed.

Wordlessly, I pulled out a wad of hundreds (different pocket) and passed it to her. She took it with an even more shocked expression, staring like it was solid gold.

"It's not stealing if you rob thieves." I said quickly, in answer to her unspoken question. It took so long to master how to say that… 'It's not stealing if you steal from stealers.' 'It's not robbing if you rob robbers…'

"Thank… thank you!" She gushed. I nodded and smiled again, not sure of what else to say.

It turned out there wasn't anything else _to_ say. So I left. I'd always been awkward around people. Give me a knife and a room full of vampires and I look like a professional hit-girl. Tell me to talk to that random guy and I lose all motor function and can't remember how speak to correctly English. It's a gift.

I kept walking for a while, still headed for the nice and shiny Land of Oz, when I spotted another group of people. These were all the spiffy-rich-vampire kind, and none looked happy. Somehow, they hadn't spotted me yet, so I listened in on their whispered conversation.

"I'm telling you, it looked bad. Like a wolf bite, but to the neck, and it killed him almost instantly! There's something freaky going on out here!"

The body! I knew I was forgetting something…

"You want to tell the boss that we got scared and came back with nothing?"

"No way! Those Strix scare the crap out of me…"

"We're 'Council' men now, not Strix. Come on, let's keep looking. It couldn't have gotten far."

I grinned broadly and pulled out my bow.

"You're right. I didn't."

They all whirled around and saw me at the same time. A few jaws dropped, but mostly the reaction was just disbelief. A tiny little girl with a bow was threatening them; how cute.

Then my first Vervain and werewolf-venom soaked, wooden-tipped arrow caught the leader right in the chest. He collapsed, screaming, and the rest of his eight men started to run forward.

"Nightwalkers! Attack!"

Everything seemed to move at once. I reached for another arrow; a new vampire jumped off of a low rooftop and tackled one of the bad vampires. Three more guys vamp-sped out of an alley. The entire street turned into a battleground.

I fired and took out another enemy. The three newcomers each accounted for their own kills. The leader on the rooftop slammed his target to the ground, snapped a neck, and pulled out a heart.

In seconds it was over. I was standing in the darkened neighborhood with four 'good' vampires and six dead 'bad' ones. I hesitantly put my bow back under my trench coat and nodded at the leader.

"Hey. What's up?"

He turned to face me, his hand still covered in blood. He had a weird look in his eye; like a soldier in the middle of a warzone. He was taller than me, but I was oddly tall for a girl so that was surprising. He had short brown hair, a familiar shade of pale skin, and a sneer written on his face.

"Who the heck are you?" He snapped, nodding at his men. They all started searching the bodies, pulling out wallets and rings. They had style, I had to give them that.

"Ho…Raven. Raven Titan…son. Raven Titanson." I lied smoothly. No way would he guess that was fake. Man I love that old show…

"Really. And what are you doing on my streets?" He demanded, stepping a little closer. He was wearing an old tee shirt, some faded jeans and a pair of tennis shoes that looked twenty years old. Kind of reminded me of one those kids that advertises for the local charities. 'Look at me, see how pathetic I look? There's more just like me that need _your_ help!'

"Oh, you know… stuff. Cool stuff." I shrugged nonchalantly. I almost tripped and pulled it off as an attempt at pacing. No, I wasn't moving when I tripped.

He eyed me up and down again. There was less of the usual 'I want to rip your clothes off.' and more of the rare 'You must have been pretty a few gallons of blood ago.'

"You're a vampire." It was more a statement than a question.

"Among other things." I said truthfully.

He glanced around at the streets and one of his men nodded at him. They'd finished stripping the bodies and were ready to light them on fire. I was starting to like them…

"It's not safe out here for non-Councilers. I know a place that's safe. Come on." He nodded to his guy, who lit a match and dropped it on the now gasoline soaked pile of bodies. They all sped off, and I followed close behind.

I always pictured a guy bringing me back to his place as a possibility sometime in the future. Nice apartment in the city, shiny elevator, awesome views for the bachelor-pad looking place. I'd like that kind of thing.

But a manhole cover that led to the sewers was what was actually waiting for me on the end of our little adventure. The one guy, whose name I still didn't know, kept watch while his three men, who were much less interesting in appearance, cracked open the lid and jumped inside.

"Come on. It smells pretty bad but its safe. No sunlight down there." He said proudly. It occurred to me that he wasn't wearing a ring, which meant he'd burn when that sun came up. Odd, that he hadn't found a nice witch to make him one yet.

I realized he was offering, not ordering, so I nodded and slowly descended the smelly hole in the street. We were still on the outskirts of the city, so there was no one around. My boots made a weird sound on the rusty, slime covered rails, and I shuddered a little as I touched the grimy rails with my hands.

After a surprisingly long descent, the five of us emerged into a fair sized room. There was light from a few battery powered lanterns, but more importantly, there were people. I turned around to get a better look and was stunned at the sight.

The chamber was maybe the size of a few school buses parked alongside each other, but there had to be two dozen people walking around and talking. Tunnels led to what had to be other chambers, and the smell of sewage actually got better, somehow. No one really batted an eye at us, which was a first for me. I'm not model, but a girl covered in blood and wearing swords tended to draw stares.

"Move either right or left." A voice above me ordered. I turned back to the ladder and saw the leader of the Lost Boys was still trying to get down, but didn't want to crawl over me.

"Oh, sorry." I took a step backwards, tripped on a ledge, and almost landed on someone's card game.

"That's why I said right or left…" The guy said softly, with just a touch of arrogance. He plopped down to the floor and whispered a few commands to his men, who, nodded and ran off on whatever secret mission they'd been assigned. The leader looked at me again, still a little wary.

"My name's Jason. I'm one of the Nightwalkers. You're now standing in one of the few safe places left in New Orleans." He explained, nodding at the group of people behind us.

"I see." I said wisely, sounding utterly intelligent, I'm sure.

"Come on. You'll want to talk to our leader. I'm sure he'd love to meet you." Jason said with a half smile. He eyed my swords again and shook his head as he led the way through the crowd.

"Leader, huh? Not General or Captain or something?" I asked as I maneuvered around a group of honest to goodness kids. What were kids doing down here?

"We tried King, but he doesn't like that anymore. He usually goes by 'sir' if you're into that kind of thing. Just don't piss him off; he's old enough to kill you and short tempered enough not to care." Jason warned.

Immediately I started picturing this guy in my head. Old, powerful, mean… like that dude from the Hunger Games with the white beard and the weird granddaughter! Maybe at some mahogany desk with a dozen men in suits all around him, ready to carry out his orders.

Instead, we walked into a fight ring. There was a boxing ring in the center, weights and punching bags all around the walls, and a group of men sparring on our left. They were all big, tough looking, and ugly, but the real surprise was the guy coaching them.

He wasn't overly tall or overly muscular, and he wasn't evil looking. He just looked like a normal, college age guy that had gotten sucked into a war. Short haired, dark skinned, eyes that looked way too wise and knowledgeable… suddenly there wasn't any doubt that this was the man Aunt D had told me about.

And all at once, he looked familiar somehow. Like an old grandparent I'd forgotten about but just decided to visit. He turned to look at me, and it was like he'd gotten the same feeling.

"Hope?"

"You must be Marcel."


End file.
